Bridge
by WriterRen
Summary: "They were strangers. Strangers that knew each other better than anyone." How do you bridge a gap of three years? Korra and Mako have a good, long talk on the train and discover that despite all the changes in their lives, some things remain the same. A speculative one-shot for the upcoming episodes.


**This is just a short story that popped into my head while speculating what's in store for us in the upcoming episodes of Book 4. The idea came specifically from the clips of Korra, Mako, and Asami with Wu on the train that we saw in the season trailer. And if anyone is wondering about the state of my other stories, I have new chapters and revamps planned. *Sigh* Once all these grad school applications get done I will have more time to write. Don't forget to review if you enjoy the story and thanks for reading. **

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><p>The train glided over the tracks, its twists and turns so smooth and subtle even the delicate Prince Wu was free of his usual motion sickness. Asami had done a fantastic job of updating the high speed railway, but that didn't stop the uneasy feeling swirling in Korra's stomach.<p>

The railcar was dark and quiet by this hour in the night. Wu had gone to bed hours before, 'utterly exhausted' from the attempts on his life earlier in the day. Not that he had been the one fighting off the attackers. The girls had taken care of the Kuvira supporters while Mako got the prince to safety. Asami had only recently gone to bed after hours of meeting with the rail staff to ensure every possible entry and exit was being monitored.

Korra stood by the window, eyes peeled for any hint of trouble as the Earth Kingdom countryside blurred past. Her shoulders tensed as footsteps echoed through the quiet car getting louder with every step. She listened closely to the pattern of the footfalls and her tension lessened slightly. Even after three years his gait hadn't changed.

Korra lowered her guard. Mako wasn't a threat, she reminded herself. But his presence set her on edge in other ways. The awkwardness from their breakup was long gone, but so, too, was the ease of their friendship. They were almost strangers now. Strangers that knew each other better than anyone.

She kept her gaze fixed on the window, even when she sensed Mako standing just behind her.

"You should get some sleep," he said.

Korra shrugged. "I'm fine. Besides, someone has to keep watch."

"I'm Wu's bodyguard. Pretty sure it's my job to, uh…Ya know. _Guard._"

A slight smile crossed her lips. Mako was as much a wordsmith as ever. Maybe Korra still knew him better than she thought. "I'm the Avatar. Pretty sure it's my job, too. Besides, I…don't sleep very well."

Mako sat down beside her. "Then you can keep me company."

They were silent awhile. There was so much to say and nowhere to start. In the rush of the day, they'd said what needed to be said to do their jobs as the Prince's bodyguard and the Avatar. Danger brought out a pattern they were unfortunately accustomed to. But here, in the quiet, when they were just Mako and Korra, the air buzzed with uncertainty. Where should they even begin?

"You cut your hair."

Korra laughed. She couldn't help it. Three years hadn't improved Mako's ability to make small talk. "Very astute, detective. Nice work."

Mako's laugh was halfhearted. "I haven't been a detective in awhile. Maybe when this is all over..."

Korra heard the wistfulness in his tone. "How long have you been working for Wu?"

"Too long," he said with a wry smile.

"Wu does seem like…a handful." Korra chose her words carefully, remembering how the cocky prince had wasted no time in trying to show his gratitude for her saving his life with some physical affection. The thought alone made Korra gag. "Keeping up with him must be a challenge."

"Only always."

Korra tensed and prayed Mako didn't notice. _Always. _How could a single word bring so many thoughts and feelings racing back at once? Stupid. She was acting so stupid. It had been three years.

Maybe Mako read it on her face. He'd always been good at that. Maybe their thoughts, as they so often had in the past, had simply traveled in the same direction. Mako asked, "What made you decide to come back?"

Her answers were clipped, unemotional. "The airbender kids found me in the swamp. They told me what happened with Kuvira. I fought her at Zaofu. I lost. Here I am."

"I don't understand. Why didn't you come sooner? Or at least tell us where you were?" Mako didn't mean to burden her with so many questions at once, but he'd kept everything bottled up for so long, once he started he couldn't stop. "Why did you lie to your parents about being in Republic City? Nobody knew where you were. Do you have any idea how worried I was? How worried we all were?"

"_You _were worried about me?" She didn't mean for the words to come out as harshly as they did, but anger had slipped in with her surprise.

"Of course I was!" Mako said. "I didn't know if you were safe or hurt or…After everything that's happened…after you almost…how could ask me something like that?"

"You wrote me letters about the _weather._"

"At least I wrote!"

"What was I supposed to say, Mako?!" Three years of pent up feelings boiled to the surface and Korra felt too tired to try and keep them down. "Was I supposed to write you about how my biggest accomplishment those first six months was taking three steps on my own? Or maybe you'd have rather heard about how the weather was in the South Pole for three years. Here's a hint: it doesn't change much!"

"I would have been happy to hear anything from you at all," he said, assuming that forced calm and unreadable expression Korra had so hated when they first met. "We're supposed to be friends. You can talk to me. About the big things and the little things. I want to understand, Korra, but I can't read your mind."

"You really want to know what was going through my head?"

"Yes!"

"Fine!" She looked out the window while she spoke. "I thought maybe I wasn't going to recover. Maybe the pain wasn't going to stop. Maybe I never would feel 'normal' again. And sometimes I still wonder if maybe I'd done the world a favor and let the Earth Kingdom's next Avatar pop up they would have had something to rally behind. At least with me gone-"

"Don't _ever_ say that."

Korra smirked slightly. For some reason, she found satisfaction in upsetting Mako, in cracking his emotionless mask. Misery does love company.

"Why not?" she asked. "No one needs an avatar who can't bend, who can't communicate with her own Avatar spirit, who can't even _walk_. I felt like an infant. I couldn't do anything for myself. Being holed up like that, it felt like my childhood all over again. I can count on two hands how many people I saw those first two years."

"You should have told me," Mako said. "Why didn't you tell me? You didn't have to go through that alone. I would have been on the next boat to the South Pole if I thought you wanted me around. Asami, Bolin. They would have done the same. We would have come to you."

"But I didn't want you around." Korra knew as soon as she'd said the words he would misinterpret. She forced herself to meet his gaze, to try to make him understand. "I didn't want you to see me like that. So weak and helpless. Besides, you were all busy leading your lives. You think I'd pull you- any of you- away from what was making you happy to come sit by my bedside at the end of the world?"

"No! But, that's not what I…I don't want to do this." Mako placed his head in his hands. He sounded so angry, so tired.

His frustration was familiar. She'd heard it from Mako when probending practice went poorly, when money was tight, when a case went cold, when the two of them fought. It was the exhaustion that showed her how much he'd changed. Before, Mako would hide his troubles from her. From everyone. Not now. Korra could see in the way his body slumped forward how much the day had drained him. She saw the worry in his eyes. For Bolin. For his family. For his friends. Even Wu. For her? He had told her as much. He was letting her in. That had to count for something, right?

Korra hesitated, then carefully placed her hand on his back. "What is it you don't want to do?" she asked softly.

"I don't want to argue. We've done enough of that."

"I agree."

Her other hand moved to rest on his shoulder. Her fingers barely grazed the rough material of his uniform before he caught her wrist. Korra took a sharp breath, fearing she'd crossed a line. But he didn't push her away. Instead, he took her hand in his and held it. She tried to ignore the spark that raced up her arm when they touched. Probably just static, she told herself.

"I missed you."

His words came so quietly that Korra barely heard them. But she did hear them. She didn't know what to say in return. Mako spared her from having to think of a reply right away.

"They built a statue of you in the park. Avatar Korra Park."

Korra felt the tension between them ease. "I heard. I didn't actually get to see it. So tell me. What else did I miss?"

Mako squeezed her hand. "Everything?"

She nodded. "Everything."

He smiled slightly. "Well, you already know all about that freak flood last spring, and the warm winter before that…"

There was no telling how long they talked. It might have been minutes. It might have been hours. Mako told her everything he could remember, from the small things like the new restaurant that had moved in beside the Probending Arena, to how he'd come to work for Wu, to that moment. She listened the whole time, remembering bits and pieces from the letters he'd sent her over the years, few at first, then more, then less. Then it was her turn to talk, to make up for all the letters she never sent.

It was hard, at first, but as Korra spoke, her words gained strength. She faltered at parts, her voice cracking when she spoke of taking those first steps, of the nightmares, of the setbacks that seemed never-ending, but she pressed on with her story. He laughed when she recounted Toph's storytelling, smiled proudly when she spoke of removing the residual poison from her body. His grip on her hand tightened when she spoke of Zaofu. By the end of her tale, she realized the space between them was gone, both literally and figuratively. They'd inched closer through the hours until their knees touched, their laced fingers resting between them. A weight had lifted from the room and Korra felt younger than she had in years.

A stray piece of hair fell across her face. Mako reached out and tucked it behind her ear without thinking. They held each other's gaze just a moment too long.

But any romance was ruined the moment Korra yawned, turning her head into her shoulder to try and hide and the action. Mako chucked softly. "I think we should get some sleep."

Korra nodded. Her head felt heavy and her eyes felt heavier. The moon, she realized, had set some time ago and the sky on the horizon was brightening. It was amazing, she thought, how a single night could help bridge a gap of three years.

Even in her foggy state of mind, Korra registered the cold tingling that filled her hand when they separated.

Mako slid out of the seat to let her pass. He walked behind her as they headed for the sleeper cars in back, stopping before the room Korra had claimed for herself. After they said their goodnights, Mako turned to leave and Korra reached for the knob of the door, but hesitated.

"Mako."

He turned to look at her. "Yeah, Korra?"

The way he said her name made her heart pound just a little faster. She swallowed and said the words before she lost her nerve. "I missed you, too."

It took Mako a moment to register what she'd said, then a slow smile spread across his face. Korra smiled, too, before muttering a quick 'goodnight' and ducking inside the door. Minutes later, as she lay in bed, she noted that her heart was still beating loudly in her chest. What that meant and where it might lead, she didn't know. Well, she thought, as she drifted off to sleep. They would just have to cross that bridge when they got there.


End file.
